The Waitress
by yuffiehighwind
Summary: Expelled from Unseen University days earlier, a young Rincewind the Wizard – burdened by the Spell and fed up with magic – seeks shelter from the cold and finds comfort in an enthusiastic fan. Rincewind/OFC.


_**Summary: **__Expelled from Unseen University days earlier, a young Rincewind the Wizard – burdened by the Spell and fed up with magic – seeks shelter from the cold and finds comfort in an enthusiastic fan._

_**Notes: **__This was intended to be the second-to-last chapter in a longer fanfic I was working on. All you need to know is that earlier - flagrantly distorting Discworld's canon - we found out that Rincewind enrolled in Unseen University in his early 20's, actually got laid before that, and knows his way around a woman. One spoiler, just to explain: the "Seamstress" that gets mentioned in the narration was a prostitute he used to know. Originally posted on 10/14/12 on Archive of Our Own. Rincewind/Original Female Character. Sexually Explicit. _

**The Waitress**

"You're a wizard."

Rincewind looked up. A slightly chubby young woman with a dirty blonde ponytail had stopped to address him. She was holding a wooden drink tray covered in empty mugs.

He had just dove inside from the ruthless cold of another Ankh-Morpork winter. Hands tucked up under his wide, red sleeves and hat brim pulled low, Rincewind huddled by the inn's pathetic fireplace looking like a drenched cat someone had tried to drown.

It took a few seconds for him register her question.

"What?"

"Beggin' your pardon, sir, but you _are_ a wizard, aren't you?"

She smiled. Rincewind looked around. Ah, yes, he was still on the Ankh side of the river. No sign of shady criminals or a brawl (yet). That explained the girl in the green dress humming to herself as she served bedraggled customers.

"Yes, miss."

Those two syllables managed to widen her eyes.

"Wow! I never met a wizard before! Welcome to Sweet Fanny's Pub."

Before he could stop himself, he said, "Surely you're not…?"

She laughed. "Oh, no. That's my Mum."

Rincewind kept his face neutral and said, "I'd like a pint of your best, please."

"Sure thing. Anything else, mister…What should I call you?"

"Rincewind. And yes, I was wondering if you have any rooms available."

"Yeah, I think we do. I'll ask Daddy. Are you visiting the city, Mr. Rincewind?"

"Erm, no. I'm looking for a new place to live, actually."

"Oh! Well, most of the wizards here hole up in Unseen University. Are you here on business with them? It's a great school, so I hear. I only ever saw the top of it over the wall. You can see its old tower from this side of the river, too. It's grand!"

Rincewind tried, really tried, not to look as depressed as he felt – nor as insulted, abandoned, dejected or angry – when she brought up the university. She clearly had assumed he was from out of town – Quirm, maybe, or Pseudopolis. (Were they at war this week?) He could pose as one, surely, just for a night, to try and assuage the nagging voices in his head saying, "Pathetic loser," over and over. Sometimes, this dreadful week, he had felt another voice trying to use his lips. He knew it was that horrible Spell.

Rincewind pulled his hat down and shot for enigmatic instead.

"Indeed."

The girl lingered, as though waiting for something more, then some other customers beckoned her. A voice from the bar snapped a name and she trudged over grumbling.

A few minutes later she was back with an overflowing mug carefully balanced on her grubby tray. She handed it to him and he took it gratefully.

"It really is our best," she said. "I nicked it from Daddy's stash. He doesn't serve any old customer the good stuff. I figured a wizard isn't any old customer."

Doubtful, but not wanting to disappoint her, Rincewind took a sip.

_Mmm_. It really was quite good. He took a longer pull.

"This is excellent. Thank you…uh…?"

"Emma."

"Thank you, Emma."

She departed, humming happily to herself.

Rincewind downed the mug and immediately wished for another one. He wanted to forget everything. Wanted to lie in a proper, downy bed again. Not that his bed in dorm room 7a had been remotely comfortable, but it was a bed nonetheless and better than a livery stable.

He wanted to go home.

_You are home,_ a voice told him.

It wasn't the Spell, just the part of his psyche reminding him that Ankh-Morpork, no matter what grimy part of it, would always be his true home, other wizards be damned. From temples, to stables, from boarding houses to inns, he could find somewhere to crash and it wouldn't make a lick of difference; it was still on one of the streets he'd grown up on.

It wasn't like he had an ex-girlfriend living next door he had to pass by everyday. It was a big city.

Then again, _this_ particular ex was visible from nearly any street in it.

Looking up at the tilted Tower of Art filled him with such loathing he considered leaving Ankh-Morpork and never coming back. But that wouldn't work, would it? That would be giving up everything that made him Rincewind.

_But you don't want to be Rincewind tonight, do you?_

"Emma!"

The girl turned, another frothy mug in her hand.

"Would you like to learn about magic?"

—

Emma quietly sat beside him stoking the fire. She had started the evening holding his gaze, listening to every word with rapt attention. The girl had it bad, he thought. Really bad. And for what reason? Just because of a pointy hat and some sigils?

It was getting late. Other than a few breaks – for other customers, for trips to the privy, for raiding the kitchen – Rincewind and the waitress lingered by the fireplace talking. Emma had the foresight to get some more logs for the fire; Rincewind wasn't the only one freezing. Customers came and went. Exhausted guests floated up the stairs to their rooms, and several were irritated to learn the last room was reserved. Where was he, then? Didn't wizards sleep?

Drowsy, both their eyes started to shut. They had sat in silence for stretches at a time. It was a strange feeling having someone to talk to, Rincewind thought. Just to sit with, not judging him or expecting anything of him other than his presence.

She wasn't even insistent on Rincewind doing any magic. She just wanted to know everything about magical theory he could tell her in whatever layman's terms he could put it.

"Magic's not a toy," he said, not for the first time, and tried to explain there was surely something else out there to improve lives, to drive forward progress.

He often told that to his professors and classmates, after spending significant time with the then-still-human Librarian – an insightful young wizard carrying a lot more wisdom than any of the faculty. The Librarian impressed upon Rincewind how dangerous magic truly was. Rincewind's conflicted fantasies wavered between the idea of pushing magic aside altogether in favor of what a rounder world called science, and blasting anyone he didn't like into oblivion. Or, you know, using magic to improve people's lives. But magic, the Librarian insisted, didn't work that way. You could meddle with reality, or you could spare the world another war. He handed Rincewind scrolls detailing the gruesome history of sourcerors, which terrified him to the core, but couldn't quell the overwhelming desire to, at least, be able to start a fire without matches.

"It's…fundamental to the fabric of the universe."

Emma yawned.

"I said that three hours ago, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did."

The waitress patted him on the knee; she didn't move her hand.

"We're drunk, aren't we?"

"Yes we are."

Now she was leaning her head on his shoulder.

Those drinks – and after last call, Emma had started drinking as well, and she could hold her liquor with the best of them – had been delicious. Or perhaps they only tasted delicious because Rincewind hadn't had any quality beer in a long time. It was an expensive night, for sure. Wizards were good luck and typically drank for free in most establishments, but Rincewind was very young, so Emma's father insisted on being paid _something_; at least enough to pay for the regular stock. Emma never revealed which keg she had poured theirs from.

They were the sort of drunk that makes your legs so unstable you make any excuse to remain sitting. If they didn't pass out, he thought, something more could happen.

Rincewind stood up.

"Where's this room?"

"Ah yes, of course. I'll show you, but then I must get to bed myself."

"Lead the way, m'lady."

—

"This is our best suite. It's not very big, but it's got fresh linen. There's a washbasin, a mirror and even a chamber pot. I could get you a bedwarmer if it's too cold in here."

Sitting on the bed, he said, "You're too kind."

"Well, goodnight," she said, exiting.

Emma turned around and leaned in the doorframe.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

Rincewind shook his head, taking off his hat. Shaggy red hair spilled out and he ran his fingers through it self-consciously.

"I _knew_ it!"

"Knew what?"

The waitress shut the door and walked over. She reached down to tuck his hair behind his ears, making Rincewind blush. Her fingertips lingered on his neck.

"That you were ginger."

He sucked in a breath. Aiming for nonchalance, he replied, "Yeah, yeah. Take the piss if you want, but at least I have a _dashing_ hat. You just have that messy ponytail."

She swatted his arm and he smirked.

"Hmph! I have other looks, Mister Wizard."

Emboldened by the alcohol, Rincewind grabbed her round the waist and pulled her into his lap. She let out a little yelp.

"Oh? Like what?"

The waitress untied a green ribbon and shook out her long hair.

"Why didn't you do that earlier?" he asked, moving it aside to kiss the back of her neck. She giggled.

"Why didn't _you_ take off your _hat?"_

"Well, Emma, how did you know I was a wizard?"

She stood up and feigned deep thought.

"Your hat?"

"You've just answered your own question."

The waitress sat down beside him, unclasped his cloak and started opening up his robe.

"What's under a wizard's robes, anyway?" she asked, running her hands over his chest. Rincewind's heart beat faster.

"Care to stay and find out?"

He had meant to sound more seductive, but his question came out nervously and about an octave too high. Emma didn't seem to notice. Her hands had fallen on the bronze octogram, hanging on a chain around his neck, that marked him as an alumnus of Unseen University – even a disgraced one. The metal didn't sparkle but the girl's eyes did.

"It's late," she said, but continued to undress him. "I should go to bed."

He patted the mattress.

"There's a bed right here."

It should be noted that Rincewind was breaking one of the ground rules of wizardry: No women. At all. Ever. But the thought was pushed aside by his dim memory of a raven-haired woman whispering encouragement in his ear.

"I'll stay if you do some magic."

Rincewind inwardly groaned.

"You've been saving up that one all night, haven't you?"

"I figured you wouldn't do it downstairs, but in secret…"

She smiled coyly, then trailed little kisses behind his ear and down his neck. Rincewind bit his lip and silently panicked, trying to quickly come up with a solution. The damn beer had fuzzed his brain and he couldn't think. He grasped for a reply, any reply.

"You want to know our secrets, huh?"

She pulled away, flushed from cheeks to chest, and pouted.

"I want to see what you can _do_, Mister Wizard, and I've waited _all night."_

She ran her palm up his inner thigh.

"Ah! Erm…"

This sort of performance anxiety couldn't ever match what other men went through. He was hard, he was ready, but not for that. Never for that.

The wizards at UU told him the Spell would prevent him from ever learning any other magic as long as it remained in his head. He held out hope for a cure, treatment, the Spell deciding it was done with him. Something. _Anything._ For now he'd have to bluff. He tried to remember his old conjuring act, or…something the Seamstress once said:_"Outside is like fire, and inside like the Disc moving."_

Rincewind prayed to the love goddess Astoria this girl was as inexperienced as she looked.

"There's a _very_ special spell I think you would like, but it needs two people."

"What is it?"

"It's called the Great Rite," Rincewind told her, and he wasn't entirely lying.

The Great Rite was a real ceremony, but it wasn't magic. At least not the kind wizards practiced. Or witches, for that matter, except perhaps for a young Gytha Ogg. It was a religious rite, but Emma was likely a "Hogswatch/Soul Cake Tuesday" Ionian and wouldn't know that.

He rolled Emma under him, evoking another yelp. Grasping to remember anything and everything the Seamstress had taught him all those years ago, he kissed the side of the girl's face, her chest, and provoked delicious little gasps nibbling on her neck.

"It requires two people to _combine _their abilities to summon up enough power for the spell."

"What does it do?"

He recalled it had something to do with worshipping goddesses and bringing rain and spring to villages. That stank of religion, though, so he had to think of something else. He failed.

"Well, uh, it's best for manipulating the…climate, actually, by…um…drawing deeply from the wells of…of thaumaturgical energies within the Disc's hub itself."

(The Disc, shaped like a wheel and not spherical, did not have a core, but worked along similar principles nonetheless.)

The waitress looked disappointed.

"What, like _rain?"_

"No, no, no, Emma, more like…a hurricane. A massive storm that could level cities."

A flash of fear crossed her face.

"Oh, I wouldn't want _that._"

The girl sat up, displacing Rincewind.

"Or snow, or wind. Any of the elements, really. But it's up to the…the summoners what they do with it. It _amplifies_ their magic. It can do just about anything they want."

"So you _could_ use it for rain in a drought or a fire?"

"Yes."

"Wind to blow a ship?"

"Anywhere, as far as the Rim."

"Sounds like something a single wizard could do himself."

She had_ that_ part right.

"Mmm. Well, he couldn't really raise up quite _enough_ power by himself."

"Oh, really?"

Emma sounded doubtful. The game was up.

"What must the summoners do to complete this Rite?" she asked coyly.

Or maybe not.

Rincewind grinned. "Ah, well," he said, taking off his shirt and UU pendant. "I could show you, but I'd need your help."

"What kind of help?"

He eased her back down to the mattress and bent her legs on either side of him.

"The summoners must get very, very close to each other."

He kissed her and Emma wrapped her arms around his neck.

"So close they can tap into each other's energy."

"How close, exactly?"

He rocked his pelvis and murmured, "So close their bodies are as one."

He took the soft noises she was making as a good sign.

"As one?"

"It's a very, very important part of the ritual."

"I wasn't expecting something like _that._ What will happen?"

Rincewind shot another quick prayer to Astoria.

"The Disc will move."

He rolled over to lay beside her. Running his hand up her thigh, under her dress, he pulled down her knickers just enough and started to rub.

"Oh!"

"Of course, the female summoner needs a bit of _preparation _before the rite."

"What are you doing?"

His fingertips gently rubbed her clitoris in a circular motion. The waitress shut her eyes.

"Just let it happen," he said. "Just let the magic flow through you."

This was professional level bullshit. Rincewind was shocked he even knew how to do this, but he could imagine the Seamstress guiding his hand. He rubbed faster.

After a while, he asked, "How are you feeling, Emma?"

"This isn't magic," she whispered breathlessly.

"Have you done this before?"

"Yes, but it never felt like this."

He slipped a finger inside her. She smiled as demurely as you could with someone's hand up your dress.

"That bit I'm familiar with," she said.

"And this?"

Rincewind inserted two fingers, palm up, and curled them. She gasped and bucked her hips. He pressed harder, at a quicker pace, still rubbing his thumb over and over her clit.

"Oh, _please_, I want to feel it!"

"And what would that be?"

"The magic!"

"I thought you said you'd done this before," he teased.

"Not with a _wizard."_

The waitress looked up at him, all lidded eyes, flushed skin and hungry want. Plus a degree of admiration Rincewind didn't deserve at all. Guilt and its friend shame flooded over him. What had they said at UU? That he was a disgrace to wizardry?

Rincewind stopped fingering her and sat up. He pushed up her dress and together they shimmied her knickers off. The girl complied as he eased her thighs open, her body trembling with anticipation and need.

He kneeled between her legs and grabbed her hips to pull her pelvis closer to his own. Undoing the front of his breeches, he pulled himself out and stroked.

_Gods_, that felt good. It seemed like ages since he'd had a good wank, (or _any_ wank), nevermind a woman in his bed. He could hardly believe it – her hot, wet opening so close to the tip of his…

Get a grip on yourself, said a voice in his head. It's just sex.

_You don't understand. She thinks I can use magic._

So?

_I don't know if you've noticed, but I can't anymore. Never could._

Yes, the voice said, but you can still do this.

Rincewind's inner dialogue was cut short by Emma reaching down to ghost her fingertips over his own. He shivered.

"Do you want to…?"

She nodded.

If this girl was expecting "magic," then missionary wasn't going to be enough. The wizard spread his knees and used both hands to tilt her pelvis up, raising her buttocks slightly off the bed. Emma wrapped her legs around his waist, but he decided to do her one better, even though he had never tried anything like it before. He lifted one of her legs and guided it straight up, placing her ankle on his shoulder.

"Are you ready?" he asked her.

Adjusting her legs, she asked, "Are you?"

_Good question._

Rincewind entered her and the sensation was startling. As she pulsed around him, he struggled to remember how to hold off coming long enough to make the Disc "move" for the girl first. The beer helped.

Emma may have never had an orgasm, but she was clearly no virgin. She opened right up for him, and Rincewind was able to quicken his pace and thrust harder. He watched the waitress struggle to keep quiet, covering her mouth with her hands to stifle the noises escaping her throat. She felt so good that, despite the alcohol, the wizard was merely a blade's edge from coming. He tried to stave it off by thinking of unpleasant things like hurt puppies and those cursed professors of his.

Suddenly, the Archanchellor's cold, callous face rose up in his mind and Rincewind felt sick. He opened his eyes, disgusted. The writhing, crying girl – (She was crying? Oh, no!) – on the end of his dick snapped him back to reality but he could still imagine his professors shaking their heads reproachfully.

He stopped.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm…I'm fine."

"I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?"

Putting her legs down, he pulled out and lay down beside her.

Her voice shaky, she said, "No, I just…I don't know what…what just happened to me."

"That's just the magic," he lied, and immediately felt guilty. "Erm…"

The girl calmed down a bit. His own pulse slowing, he sighed. Why couldn't her Mum have explained this to her?

"Actually, Emma, that was just how…uh…_women _get when they…um…when they, you know…_finish."_

Realization dawned on her and she smiled slightly.

"It was your first, wasn't it?" he whispered.

She nodded, then pulled him into a kiss, wrapping her leg around him. Their embrace grew more passionate and Rincewind pinned her beneath him.

"What about the magic?" she asked.

"Well that was kind of magical."

"I _know_, but I want another one. I think I know how to do the spell," she said. "The Great Rite."

Rincewind had already forgotten.

"Um, how?"

"We need to _both_ have one. Together, at the same instant."

He groaned.

"I think I need a break."

Emma pouted.

"I think I'll explode any second," he clarified.

"Please?"

"Fine. Um…How do you want to do it?"

"Like this. Or like before. Whatever you want."

This was going to take willpower Rincewind wasn't sure he had. The girl's expression was so pleading, though.

"What I want," he said, thrusting into her, eliciting a surprised gasp, "is to make you come again."

What he _really_ wanted was an orgasm and a good sleep. Or actual magic to shoot out of him and a good sleep. The Spell chuckled mockingly in the back of his head.

Maneuvering them into the same position as before, he said, "Why mess with a perfect recipe?"

The girl's body rocked with his thrusts but after a while she furrowed her brow and either watched him or stared at the ceiling. Finally she sighed.

"It's not happening."

"Emma," he said, trying to be encouraging, but sounding impatient. "Just clear your mind and let it happen. I won't let you down."

He wasn't so sure about that, but this girl seemed the kind who came easily if someone just bothered to put in a little effort. He reached down to rub her clitoris.

However, finishing simultaneously would be difficult. First, he had to make her come. Second, he had to hold off coming until the _moment_ she did. And third…Why _the fuck _was this even happening? Why didn't he just have another beer and go to sleep?

Emma started writhing again. That was a good sign. It was awkward to multitask, but he didn't dare stop touching her clit. If only she would help him and do it herself!

Like a mindreader, the girl's hand reached down and covered his. He took his away and she continued rubbing in his place.

"Good girl," he said, gripping her leg with his now free hand. "You can do it."

She moaned.

"Come on, Emma, you're almost there."

Oh gods, _he_ was almost there. He had been for a while and could finish any second.

Finally, Emma let out a high-pitched noise and her body tremored. Rincewind let himself go.

And it seemed, in that moment, that maybe a little bit of magic _was_ discharged. The room faded away for the both of them, hot blinding whiteness flared behind their eyelids, their bodies shuddered in tandem, and afterwards, satisfied sighs escaped both their lips. They sagged, dizzy with pleasure, returned to the Disc and looked at each other.

"Did you feel the Disc move?" she asked.

Rincewind gave her a dopey grin.

"I sure felt something."

_You're welcome,_ he thought he heard a voice whisper.

The waitress just smiled and pulled him down, down, down into her arms and into her bed.

* * *

The next day, Rincewind woke up alone to the urban soundscape of Ankh-Morpork. The city's distinctive smell wafted into the window as well. He squinted into the sunlight. Tangled up in sheets, half naked, all he knew was he had a pounding headache, he was in some strange room, and his hat was missing.

His hat!

Rincewind sat up and surveyed the scene. Nothing out of the ordinary, but even with its small size, the accommodations had a certain niceness he knew he couldn't afford. These lodgings must have been temporary; an inn on the Ankh side of the city, from the look of it. Down pillows, mattress, duvet. Posh quarters, for him. What in the world had happened last night?

He grabbed his hat off the floor. It was dusty and the tip was slightly bent. You couldn't get a replacement in any old shop. He'd have to treat it better in the future.

Dressed, he went downstairs to find the innkeeper and perhaps some hair of the dog for his hangover. Strangely enough, what bits of him that weren't rebelling from the alcohol were feeling untypically relaxed.

"Look, I don't really remember last night, except the beer, a girl…Did I already settle my bill?"

The innkeeper looked at him funny. "Yes, you did. Quite generously."

Oh, no. He patted himself for his coin purse. He still had it and there was a little money left._Whew!_

"Ah, okay. Good. Um, where's the nearest place serving…" He looked out the window. "…breakfast?"

"You're not going to say goodbye to my daughter?"

A shiver of icy fear shot down Rincewind's spine.

"Your daughter?"

"Yeah, you two were talking by the fire all night." He narrowed his eyes. "Emma's a nice girl. Heart breaks easily."

"Um."

"Don't get the wrong idea, I'm just saying she has trouble keeping friends. They tend to be rude bastards."

The man's glare broke into a laugh.

"Ah hahaha," Rincewind laughed nervously.

"Just hang on a sec, I think she's in the back. Emma!"

If Rincewind had a tighter collar, he would have loosened it.

The waitress emerged from a back room looking much brighter and not hungover at all. In this light her chubbiness showed a bit more than the previous night but she still had a cute face and genial smile.

"Yes, Daddy?"

Memories of the previous night's exploits flooded back. He tried not to show it.

"Your friend was just leaving."

"Ah, yes. Mr. Rincewind the Wizard. I hope you enjoyed our accommodations."

"It's a lovely inn," was all he could say. He couldn't read her expression. Had she forgotten?

The three of them stood in awkward silence until he added, "The beer was fantastic." His forehead throbbed at the memory. "Really great."

"You two got pretty familiar, eh Emma?"

Rincewind coughed. He couldn't breathe. The innkeeper knew. How could he not know?

"Oh, yes, it was so interesting to learn all about wizardry," his daughter said.

Maybe she wasn't saying anything because her father was there. Not that Rincewind expected anything from her. Why would he? Everything that could possibly be expressed already had been, and quite graphically at that.

"Great. Well, we hope to have your business again, wizard."

"Keep up the good work," Rincewind said lamely, and exited.

He was halfway down the street before he slowed down, turned, and did not see Emma coming after him. It shouldn't have been so disappointing.

He got a little further before he turned to see her walking briskly towards him. He wasn't sure if she had run out to kiss him or to slap him, and suspected he deserved the latter.

"You forgot something," she said. Rincewind's hands instinctively reached for his hat. He flinched preemptively and she rolled her eyes.

"You're going to slap me, aren't you? That's what happens in these situations, either the man gets kissed or slapped. Or hit by a cart."

"You forgot _this."_

She handed him what looked a bit like a cocktail napkin, if Ankh-Morpork were to have such things. It had some near-indiscernible handwriting on it.

"What is it?" he asked.

"You don't remember?"

"Should I?"

She sighed, exasperated. "I think it's that 'Spell' you told me about. Before you passed out, you drew this."

He took it from her and saw it had several conflicting things scribbled on it in splotchy, black ink. A fragment of the lyrics to "The Wizard's Staff has a Knob on the End," a naked female stick figure saying "The Great Rite of Astoria," the sentence "Bugger magic or magic will bugger you," and something quite chilling underneath.

Rincewind let out a strangled croak and nearly dropped the paper. The waitress plucked it from his fingers.

"Does this mean anything to you? Because my eyes can't look away. It's like the words keep changing shape, too. Ashonai, Ebiris, Urshoring, Kvanti…?"

"STOP! DON'T!"

Rincewind trembled with fear and rage. Emma stepped back, confused.

"These are _real_ magic words, aren't they?"

He gulped.

"Rip that up now, please."

"Why? I thought you would…show me."

"Can you tell me how many words are written there?"

She counted, then shrugged.

"Seven."

Rincewind exhaled.

"Yes, Emma, those are _real_ magic words. How did they get written on that napkin?"

"I'm not sure. I don't really remember."

"Was I in trouble? Panicked? Frightened? Were we in any danger?"

"Well, we performed the Great Rite."

His eyebrows went up in alarm. He couldn't remember what in the world that was, now.

"We had sex," she said flatly.

"Oh. Right."

They looked anywhere but at each other.

"I'm sorry I lied to you. But believe me, what's on that paper is, I think, at least it might be, probably, _real_ magic. _Powerful _magic. Does it make your eyes water looking at it?"

"Yes."

"Then it is."

They stood in silence.

"Sooo, the Great Rite…?"

He sighed. "I made you come, Emma. _Twice._ Don't I get credit for that?"

"Yeah, I suppose so." She smirked a little. "I didn't know my body could _do_ that."

He winked. "Wizarding secret."

"Actually, I asked around this morning. Wizards are_ forbidden_ from having sex."

Rincewind was about to barrel into an explanation when she added, "You're either a very good liar or you're on the run from something. Am I right?"

The wizard didn't answer. He bit his tongue and looked away, then back at Emma.

"How did those words end up on that paper?"

The waitress shook her head. "We were drunk, Rincewind. How should I know?"

She kissed him chastely and walked away. He watched her go, adjusted his hat and turned a corner.

_Welcome back to Ankh-Morpork._


End file.
